A Tree's Wisdom
by Berylium
Summary: Yggdrasil is less than pleased at one of its branches being singed during the Bifrost attack on Jotunheim.  What happens when a tree made of the life-force of the entire multiverse starts to nudge events with its own leafy branches, er, ravens?
1. Chapter 1

A Tree's Wisdom

Author's Note:

This is the first fic I've written in quite a while, and the first outside of Transformer's fandom. A lot of the inspiration for this of course came from the movie and the soundtrack, but also a lot from this community. "Fallen Star" by Alydia Rackham was just so beautiful, and I've enjoyed Shipperwolf's tales as well as those of several others. So thanks, authors, for your energy and creativity! One of my favorite habits I've seen authors here get into is a suggested soundtrack. I hope you don't mind if I follow in that tradition.

On a more detailed note, I wanted to explain what I meant by "mostly movieverse". If the Marvel movieverse spells something out, I will almost always use that. To fill in the blanks, I draw on Thor Marvel comics, then on Norse mythology and modern Asatru beliefs, though to make something "fit" better, I may use devices of my own invention – in particular, I puzzled over why Odin's ravens were missing from the movie and developed some ideas. You may spot other changes as well. I hope you enjoy what I came up with. I appreciate all feedback and reviews!

Prologue

(Music: Dune, Prophecy Theme, by Toto)

Yggdrasil. It is a vast, unimaginable stretch of energies whose scope and stature holds the nine realms within its structure. Those few who see past the edges of conventional time and space still see only glimpses, but best describe their vision as a branching tree that is deeply rooted into the very essence of the multiverse. It is made of life and death; physics and magic; starlight and dark matter; lightening and thunder and the silence after; and in its unique way, holds an awareness of the lesser beings that settled on the nine worlds entombed at its roots, cradled in its trunk, and nestled in its branches. The warlike natures and behaviors on so many of the realms did not particularly disturb Yggdrasil; for a tree well knows the value of the pruning shears. Yet also it loved growth and new leaves and new life, and at times flexed a twig to further those purposes.

Events along Yggdrasil's expanse had been relatively calm for a moderate period of how the tree's awareness reckoned time. Few traveled from one realm to the next, and most of those from Asgard, the realm held in the uppermost of the tree's branches. Those of the race of Asgard were reckoned as gods by most from the other worlds, and indeed of all those Yggdrasil watched, they burned the brightest with life and passion, going about the business of their long lives with tremendous energy and enthusiasm.

And then in the span of a brief rustle in the cosmic wind, events unfolded so rapidly that something new, something unexpected, something unthinkable occurred:

Yggdrasil itself came under attack.

oooOOOOooo

The prince called ice to the core of the Bifrost mechanism, with the purpose of locking it open for its cosmic energies to rage unleashed against the hapless world of Jotunheim. He cared not what form the ice took, and so distracted was he by his brother's grim approach that Loki did not notice that without his own direction, the ice branched and rooted, and grew upward until the form of a tree erupted from the central platform. The ice-tree flared warning, lightning flickering along its branches; cajoling, alarming, pleading, for Loki Odinson to take heed and pause in his rash actions.

But Loki was consumed in reaction to what he perceived as patronizing condescension from his brother, Thor, who had somehow escaped the final traps Loki had set for him, had broken free from Loki's web of lies, had returned to Asgard to confront his dark-haired brother, _and now refused to fight him as though he were not worthy of a simple test of arms!_

It would have driven any warrior mad with frustration, and Loki, for all his talents at mage-craft, knew himself a warrior. He threw out insults, threats, seeking some flaw in Thor's newfound control, not caring what he said so long as it hit deep. Finally, a threat to that mortal girl struck the nerve Loki had been seeking and the trial by combat began between the brothers. As they tumbled and wrestled from the Bifrost chamber, the ice-tree screamed into brighter incandescence, but went unnoticed.

oooOOOOooo

As the Bifrost energies sliced deep into Jotunheim, the concerns of Yggdrasil escalated until the tree that held the homeworlds began to shudder in reaction. Across the realms, winds stirred for no cause, high tides occurred out of sync from the influence of their usual planetary forces, and stars pulsed in silent agony as a branch of the living world-tree began to burn.

Yet almost as suddenly, mighty blows against a crystalline surface resounded across time and space. Uru-metal, harvested from the heart of a dying star and guided by an indomitable will, fractured the unbreakable Asbru bridge of Asgard. Without the support of the rainbow structure, the Bifrost beam faltered and died.

The assault was over, leaving a painful singe in its wake.

The great world tree calmed then, and had time to examine and ponder on the peculiar behaviors of several of these powerful beings that trod the uppermost world. The uru-wielder was a child of one who had traded a part of their essence to Yggdrasil in return for a piece of the world-tree's wisdom. This child was associated with thunder and lightening and the storm, but after an exile to the middle realm found its very nature – brash, impulsive, careless – changed by interaction with what was almost a speck, by a part of creation that flashed its light for but an instant before dimming. And the world-tree considered: what force had this slight being that could change the very nature of a god?

The tree contemplated another child, born of one realm and raised in another, purposed to bridge a gap between worlds yet who not only denied itself this birthright entirely, but had in its ignorance entered into anathema, for Yggdrasil yet was pained. The child of mischief and illusion spiraled, lost in darkness and shame within Ginnungagap, the great emptiness through which the tree spread its branches.

And Yggdrasil wondered: if one god's essential, primal nature could be so altered, could not another?

_A/N: I have the whole story plotted and the next chapter written. Please let me know what you think!_


	2. Prelude in Four Parts

_A/N: Thanks to all who commented and followed! You are making my return to writing lots of fun! There is less tree in this chapter, and more main charas._

Prelude in Four Parts

Part the First: Loki

(Music: "Letting Go", Thor soundtrack)

He looked one, last time into the eye of the man he had called "Father" all the centuries of his life. The one he had called "brother" looked on, holding onto the great spear from which Loki dangled. Anguish poured into the space between them, and despair borne of choices made in the wake of shock and heartbreaking shame. Pieces of the fractured bridge fell around him like volcanic ash and left as bitter a taste in his mouth.

He would not stay, would not bear the pity of the two men who pled with their eyes for him to return to them. He would not remain for their "justice", for their high-handed "forgiveness" when it had been they that had shattered his life by a lifetime of upstaging him and well-meant but devastating lies.

Loki could not bear their love for him, for at that precise moment, he had none for himself.

He let go.

Softly, easily, like releasing a breath, the lost child of the Jotuns released the golden sheen of his adopted father's spear; and with the twinkling rainbow rain of debris as escort, fell into the endless dark.

Asgard glowed above him. He kept his eyes upon his father and brother until their forms disappeared into the realm's soft brightness, then fixed his gaze upon that until it, too, shrank and finally vanished among the great cosmic night that hung above the shining citadel. The shards of the bridge, heeding some unfelt wind, swept away from him. And then the very nebulae, every familiar constellation, faded into the dark, and he fell, silent and desolate.

Later, Loki was never able to determine how long he hung in nothingness. There was no light; there was no sound; even the sensation of falling faded after a time, leaving him utterly alone with his misery and his shame and his memories. At some point he wept soundlessly, and closed his eyes, and an exhausted sleep came upon him, until a dream intruded and he awoke with a start.

Some cycles passed like this, waking and sleeping and dreaming, with only the pounding of his heart after a nightmare to tell him he yet lived. Dully, he waited to die, wondering if even Niflheim would take him, or if his spirit would be eternally lost in this endless void.

And then... there. Something separated from the black and came toward him, out of the starless night. A single figure wheeled lazily and drifted nearer, and he stared at it, wondering if it were real or if he had finally lost his very mind to some sort of delirium. A harsh cry echoed through the darkness – and as he recognized the sound, he discerned the wings of the being that approached him.

A white raven flew toward him, glowing slightly with an inner light. A raven, a messenger not of the gods of Asgard, but of the very World Tree itself. Yggdrasil, which held the nine Realms in its branches, invested a part of its energy into these bird-forms, which existed in every world in one shape or another.

And now one came to him, and floated with Loki in the void, keeping pace with him just out of arms' reach. It cawed again and tilted its head in a manner that held curiosity, arrogance, and a touch of menace.

oooOOOOooo

Part the Second: Thor

(Music: Aldebarran, Enya)

Two weeks after the Breaking, Thor Odinson paced the shortened length of the Asbru bridge. He had found that the brisk walk helped decrease his agitation in the evenings, as every footfall chimed and brought a quiet light to the surface of the rainbow material. On either side of him, the ocean swirled and spilled over the edge of the world, and above the familiar blaze of constellations.

Heimdall's stoic figure stood at the broken forward edge, as ever in armour and cloak and hands clasping the hilt of his greatsword. Mysterious and ancient as Odin, but with the duty to guard rather than lead, Heimdall had watched over the bridge since times before Thor's own birth. Now, as ever, he stood facing outward in watch, his golden eyes seeming to contemplate the gleaming constellations and swaths of shifting color that was the Asgardian night sky.

"Good evening, my prince," Heimdall said without moving, just as Thor came up behind him.

"Good eve, Heimdall," Thor returned the courtesy, stepping up beside the guardian, Mjornir swinging from his belt. He rarely was without his hammer these days – it, at least, had been lost but found once more.

"She searches for you still, my lord," Heimdall said, anticipating Thor's question. "She wonders now if time passes differently between the realms, and that is why you have not yet returned."

Thor's gut twisted. If only Loki had seen that recognition and honor were his, without need for complex machinations. If only his brother had not been burdened with the knowledge of his birth in the midst of the chaos Thor's fall from grace had engendered. If only…

There were too many "if only's" to continue the list.

"Thank you," Thor finally said. "And my brother?"

"He remains in darkness," Heimdall replied, simply and with a touch of sadness. In the days following the destruction of the Bifrost, Odin had made it known to his family and closest retainers the truth of Loki's heritage and how his adopted son had discovered it. To the Aesir, a race where change came rarely, if at all, there now existed at least some understanding and occasionally pity for the Realm's lost son. Few of them could imagine what it would be like to have one's entire existence turned upside down in one day.

Thor was one of the few, and unlike Loki he had found someone to support him in the midst of his turmoil. He had found Jane Foster. And now, because of Loki, he had lost her. Thinking about his brother created so many different emotions that Thor was still at a loss to sort them out.

"Still in darkness," he repeated slowly, then was forestalled from beginning his departure by Heimdall's upraised hand.

"There is one more thing you should see, my prince," he said, and turned his golden gaze first to Thor, and then down to the edge of the bridge.

"What do you mean?" Thor asked, mystified.

"Look closely," Heimdall urged.

Intrigued, Thor knelt to examine the fractured edges in more detail. Frowning with concentration, he focused his sight to the smallest cracks, the most minute protrusions. It was an ability common to Aesir; Heimdall's sight across realms was a true gift. After a moment's contemplation, he understood.

"It's… healing itself?" Thor asked in awe. As he watched, gleaming particles at the edges slowly divided and rearranged themselves into the crystalline matrix that formed the substance of the Asbru.

"Very slowly, but yes," Heimdall replied. "The Asbru is alive, in its way. I believe it was made to be so, though since it has never been injured this severely, this is my first observation of it. But I am grieved to tell you, my prince," he continued, "that at this rate, it will still take some centuries for regrowth to be complete. Additionally, the Bifrost mechanism itself still requires replacement, at precisely its former site to be functional."

"I appreciate your candor," Thor murmured, not taking the time for introspection to note that a month earlier, such a frustration of his desires would have elicited some type of outburst. Instead, he remained clearly mesmerized by the microscopic repairs he could see taking place. Absently, he reached to touch the fractured edges.

Just that suddenly, it felt that his strength, his might, his very will were all drained out of him. Startled into an oath, Heimdall reached out and hauled in the collapsing prince from the edge.

"My lord! My lord!" his bass voice rang out, and he gave Thor a shake, armour and all. But with the contact to the injured edge broken, Thor quickly roused.

"I'm… I'm all right," he said, his attention obviously still on the bridge. "Heimdall, look!"

The bridge had clearly grown a handspan in length.

oooOOOOooo

Part the Third: Jane

(Music: Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Celtic Women arrangement)

Three people stood around a knotted pattern burned into the sand of the New Mexico desert. One of them had just shared a kiss with a god, accepted his promise to return, and then watched Thor and his companions transported away by the rainbow glory of an Einstein-Rosen bridge. Her entire life's work had been vindicated and her heart had just been stolen away. The entire world felt like it was shifting under her feet.

"So how was it like? How was it different?" Darcy asked with her usual impudence.

"I'm sorry, what?" Jane asked, startled out of her reverie.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "The kiss," she said impatiently. "How does he compare to say, Donald?"

"That's TMI for me," Erik said hastily as Jane's bewildered look grew thoughtful.

"You know, Darce," she said slowly, "it's like the difference between petting a cat versus running your hand through Aslan's mane."

"I take it back," Erik said. "That's an interesting comparison."

"Yeah, if you don't mind being denied all the juicy details," Darcy muttered back.

"Darcy," Jane warned, then looked back up to the sky.

"I just hope his brother doesn't have something worse than the Destroyer up his sleeve," Erik said, following her train of thought.

Darcy glanced at him sideways. "Were we watching the same god of thunder whip up a whirlwind and kick that metal monster into next Thursday? He and his buddies will get everything under control," she finished confidently.

"You're right, Darcy," Jane told her, exhaling a taut breath. She still felt something that was almost like dizziness; the world continued to turn under her feet.

"How much you want to bet Thor comes back riding a white horse?" Darcy smirked. "That kind of guy should always have a horse."

"You know, when I picked him up to find his hammer the first time, he was at a pet store trying to find something to ride," Jane remembered.

Darcy blinked. "I can see he's still got a lot to learn about the modern world. I wonder if he's ever been here before, you know, for real, for people to know his name and write down stories about him and Meow-meow."

"For the hundredth time, it's Mjolnir," Erik interjected.

Darcy answered him spiritedly, and the three continued to while away the wait. For once, Jane was completely grateful for Darcy's inability to tolerate silence, but as the hours went by and the sun started to sink in the west, Jane finally found herself losing her brave face.

"He's not coming," she said quietly. She squinted one last time up to the sky, willing herself to be wrong, willing the bridge to open up just at the moment that she conceded that point. But the sky remained clear, and as even Darcy finally succumbed to depressed silence, the trio trudged through the sand back to the waiting vehicle.

Jane could not remember ever feeling more lost.

_If happy little bluebirds fly  
>Beyond the rainbow<br>Why, oh why, can't I?_

_oooOOOOooo_

Part the Fourth

(Music: The Funerals, Dark Crystal Soundtrack)

Earlier this year…

Baron von Strucker sat at the head of a majestic wooden table in a dimly lit room, his elbows resting on the table in front of him, his fingertips lightly resting against each other, his chin brushing his hands, his eyes focused in the middle distance, pondering. Candlelight flickered and reflected in the monocle resting over his right eye. The leader of Hydra was rarely prone to second-guessing his own decisions, but these were extraordinary times.

Captain Steven Rogers had been found floating in a block of ice in the Arctic, and had been revived. Of this much, his agents were certain – the cretin had broken cover himself and become an intense focus of attention in the middle of Times' Square.

The answers to the immediately following questions were less certain. There were some rumors that the Allies had found Herr Skull's cube-shaped power source shortly after the explosion that had presumably killed both the founder of Hydra and the success of science that should have belonged to that lethal organization, Captain America, but none of his agents had ever been able to confirm or disprove those reports.

And last but not least, if the Captain had survived… so too could have the Red Skull. Von Strucker had sent out six underwater exploration units immediately, impulsively, upon hearing the news of Rogers' survival. And now he sat in the dark, pondering the consequences to his own standing in Hydra should the Red Skull indeed return, and his courses of action.

A single knock at his door interrupted his thoughts.

"Enter," he said briskly, raising his head.

A Hydra soldier entered and thrust both fists into the air.

"Hail Hydra!"

"Yes, yes, go on," von Strucker said impatiently.

"Sir? Underwater unit Gamma reports they have found something you will want to see."


	3. The White Raven

The White Raven

(Music: Stargate Overture, Stargate Soundtrack)

A pale raven appeared out of the darkness and floated with Loki in the void, keeping pace with him just out of arms' reach. It cawed again and tilted its head in a manner that held curiosity, arrogance, and a touch of menace.

_"Child of war, raised up for peace,_  
><em>Who by choice more war unleashed.<em>  
><em>Wither now thy heel shall tread?<em>  
><em>Wouldst thou find here pain, or dread?"<em>

He stared at the raven, who just blinked at him mockingly. Of all Asgardians, Loki knew only his father to have had contact with the ravens of Yggdrasil; and all he had heard of those encounters indicated they had come with riddles and great price. This one obviously scorned Loki for his attack on the Jotuns.

In an unsettling moment of insight, Loki realized that Yggdrasil was aware of the threat to Jotunheim, and evidently unhappy enough to tell him so by special messenger. If anything could bode more ill than falling through the void eternal, this was it.

"Pain or dread?" he forced out through a parched mouth, his voice coming rough and hoarse. "Are you asking me to choose my own punishment?" He held out his armoured arms and gestured wide, the old anger bubbling back up within him for a moment, pride raising his chin, dulled emerald eyes starting to shine again with some of their old fire. "Here I am! Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard – or was that Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Jotunheim?" The words fell from him with biting sarcasm.

"Do what you came to do, voice of the world-tree," he continued, holding the raven's gaze with his own, but his voice coming more raggedly as the surge of anger disappeared as swiftly as it had come. "I am certain… I will deserve whatever you bring me."

The raven shook its head rapidly. Loki read into that movement disgust that he was not understanding the creature's intent. Its golden eyes imperiously caught his own again.

_"List now to Ydddrasil's voice_  
><em>And know the weight and depth of choice<em>  
><em>To thy hand will come an hour<em>  
><em>In which ye must chose: for love or power?"<em>

Loki's brow creased in concentration, dark eyebrows lowering. Through his exhaustion he began to understand that the raven was not here to administer any imminent torment.

It continued.

_"For power's gain, then by thy deeds_  
><em>Must brother fall to Valhalla's sleep.<em>  
><em>Then all will dread thy wrathful hand<em>  
><em>And call thee king of Asgard-land."<em>

Here was more confusion. After scolding him for his actions, Yggdrasil was offering him the throne of Asgard if he killed his brother, Thor? Again?

_"And if ye love should choose as fate_  
><em>Then ye must save what now ye hate<em>  
><em>And suffer then the loss of pride,<em>  
><em>Yet on thy father's horse shall ride."<em>

"The warhorse of death, Sleipnir?" Loki wondered aloud. Over the centuries, the eight-legged horse had become a euphemism for four pall-bearers carrying a coffin. From a riddle-bearing raven, it was the only possible interpretation. "If you are asking me whether I would prefer to be king or dead, well, that isn't much choice at all." His voice became even more self-deprecating. He was so tired, too tired to bring up his anger to shield himself any more. "And why offer me any kind of choice, after all I've done? And why would I want to save anything I hate, particularly if it costs my life that you speak of sparing?"

The raven stared at him with a golden gaze, and he found himself transfixed by it.

_"Ponder well, O Prince of Lies_  
><em>Much power dwells behind thy eyes<em>  
><em>This one more chance Yggdrasil gives –<em>  
><em>Choose! Pain or dread! Wither – or <strong>live!<strong>"_

The raven's beak closed around its final rhyme. Its eyes glowed like sunlight, like firelight, like a warm hearth at the end of a day. In that moment the emotion in those alien eyes shifted from disdain to something much softer. Yggdrasil's compassion for this tormented child was palpable for a few moments. All around him, a pale outline of a branching structure shimmered briefly against the darkness, larger than life, leading into infinity.

The raven cawed once more, and then with a flurry of snow-white wings it flew directly at Loki's face. Instinctively he threw up his arms protectively with a harsh cry and -

**_WHAM._**

His entire body struck a hard surface, and the darkness of unconsciousness claimed him.

Later:

"Nnnnngh." Loki let out an inarticulate moan in protest of the needles of light that dazzled his eyes even behind closed lids. More groans followed as other body parts checked in, each with their own litany of complaints. For a brief, delirious moment, Loki wondered if he had somehow been turned inside out and been sent to Niflheim after all. Finally, though, he shielded his face with a hand and cracked open his eyes enough to look around, and discovered what had become a familiar vista of a Midgardian desert landscape.

Gingerly, he attempted to sit up, but was immediately seized by a sharp, almost overwhelming pain from his left leg. Frantically he twisted to get a look at it, and stared at his limb in dismay. Even in armour, his ankle was obviously misaligned.

Almost, he just gave up. Already taken by a terrible thirst and weakness that spoke of days in the void without food or drink, a merciless sun beating upon his dark head, and now a body wracked with pain, he thought of simply lying back and letting a slow death take him.

But his hand brushed against a knobbed stick of wood just long enough to use as a cane, and flickers of his old stubbornness woke within him. Gasping and trembling, he forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the weathered stick he had found, his green cloak falling around him and draping his leaning form.

He had survived infancy on icy Jotunheim, betrayal and loss on wondrous Asgard, and even a meeting with Yggdrasil's mysterious ravens. He would not allow the mortal world of Midgard to be his end.


	4. Bound to the Realm

AN: Dear readers and reviewers, I can but appreciate your patience and support. The following was slowly handwritten over a period of months and then retyped as my writing time is so constrained. The Avengers movie has come gloriously (and so now my story is very officially AU!) and now Iron Man 3 with Thor 2 coming this fall. However I have not forgotten this story and will plan for ongoing, if slow, progress in my original outline. The musical selection is one that inspires thoughts of the Warriors Three and Sif every time I hear it, and additional verses will be featured in subsequent chapters. The first part of this scene is dedicated to those four, who are some of my favorite characters. I hope you enjoy, and thank you to all who have read and reviewed over the last year!

A Tree's Wisdom: Chapter 4 Bound to the Realm

Music: "All For One" by Blackmore's Night

_We'll drink together_  
><em>And when we drink we'll drink together<em>  
><em>Not alone!<em>

_We'll drink together_  
><em>And when we drink we'll drink together<em>  
><em>Not alone!<em>

_All for one and one for all!_

"Mayhap I should have broiled the eggs instead of poaching them," a deep voice fretted. Thor heard the voice as if it drifted on a wind from far away.

"Are your very brains broiled, Volstagg?" a tenor demanded, frustration coloring the otherwise smooth tones. "Should we not be more concerned with whether our prince will wake at all, rather than natter about details of his breakfast preferences?"

"Natter?" the deeper voice objected. "You wound me, Fandral – and you ought to have more faith. The healers of Asgard are the finest in the nine realms. He will wake – and my contribution will be a rejuvenating feast.

"I have plenty of faith," Fandral returned. "Sadly, part of my faith is that you will always find a way to focus on the trivial when the serious is at hand."

"Why – you – you," Volstagg spluttered.

"Stop picking a fight just to make yourself feel better, Fandral," a female voice joined the others. "We all worry in different ways," she added more softly.

A third voice, male but rusty as though rarely used, joined the conversation. "None of Asgard have given their life-force to the realm for so long that it is now but legend. But it has been done before. He will wake."

"He – cannot help – but wake with all this arguing about him," Thor found himself saying. A strange and unusual weariness clouded his mind, and his own eyelids felt like giants were holding them closed.

"Thor!" That was Sif, forgetting protocol in her relief.

"There, you see? Faith!" boomed Volstagg.

With effort, Thor cracked open his eyes. Several blurs resolved into the brightened faces of his most loyal friends. All wore arms and armor, combat-ready as usual. Volstagg beamed at him while holding a tray piled with a truly impressive amount of appetizing food. Beyond them he saw familiar tapestries and billowing curtains that typified a room of the House of Healing.

"No doubt it was our Lady Sif's dulcet voice that lured his spirit back to us," Fandral parried.

"Fandral," Sif warned in a tone that could never be described as "dulcet."

Thor let the balm of his friends' banter flow over him. The sheer normalcy was deeply reassuring. Slowly, he sat up and reached for the incredible breakfast Volstagg had prepared, thinking that perhaps food could lighten the fatigue that leadened his limbs.

"Try the eggs. I poached them myself not ten minutes ago," Volstagg urged. Although the man-mountain preferred for others to do the cooking and he to do the eating, his own efforts in the kitchen were noteworthy for both their taste and restorative properties.

Thor obediently began with the eggs, which had been delicately drizzled with a savory sauce, and raised his eyebrows to let his friend know his appreciation. His tired mind found itself snagged by Hogun's comment.

"The last thing I remember is looking at the Asbru bridge," Thor said between bites. He finished the eggs and went on to a perfectly seasoned and grilled steak. Various pastries and slices of ripe fruit also shared the plate. "What I do not know is how I arrived here," and he used his fork to briefly gesture at the room. "Hogun, what did you mean about giving my life-force to Asgard?"

His friends exchanged glances, suddenly solemn. Those uncharacteristic expressions (save for on Hogun) caused Thor some amount of unease. It was Sif who finally answered.

"My prince, you touched the raw edge of the Asbru," she said. "It… drew power from you, enough to grow almost a foot in length. Heimdall caught you before you fell off the edge." The last was said with a certain edge in itself, and she frowned at him. "You must be more careful. Asgard cannot lose two princes in two weeks!"

Thor paused mid-chew at her scolding, then hastily swallowed.

"It appears I owe Heimdall my life once again," Thor said quietly.

"But the bridge!" Fandral could no longer contain his excitement. Even his blonde mustache seemed to twitch. "It simply grew, like ivy reaching toward the sun. "

"Vampiric ivy, more like," Sif muttered. "I do not have the impression that it asked for the energy it took."

"After you were safely here in the House of Healing, I touched the edge myself," Hogun added quietly. "I felt nothing. The bridge did not react."

"You are not of the line of Buri," a new voice said, calm but powerful. Thor's attention snapped to the doorway, where Odin stood regally. He wore full court armor and held Gungnir, his golden spear, with one hand.

"All-Father," Sif greeted with respect. The Warriors Three straightened to attention, while Thor set his tray of food aside and began to gather his strength enough to stand, but was paused by his father's upraised hand.

Odin addressed his companions first, his single eye meeting each of their gazes in turn. "The queen and I are pleased at the care you offer our son. But now, allow us some private conversation."

"Of course, my liege," rumbled Volstagg. The four bowed and left the room with brief nods of farewell.

Thor sat up in attention, noting with annoyance that he still felt very fatigued and weakened.

"Father," he said, blue eyes meeting Odin's storm-gray gaze, "do you know what happened?"

Odin did not answer for a moment, instead leaning his spear against a nearby table that held Mjolnir, then took a few steps and sat on the edge of the bed. His own movements appeared heavier, less guarded now that only his son remained in his presence.

"Yes," Odin said finally. "It is an ancient magic, one that links our family to the foundations of the realm of Asgard. It started with my father's father, Buri; then passed to my father, Bor. It is why I am king, and why you will be king after me."

"You have never mentioned such deep linkage before," Thor replied. Only a few months ago, the idea of information being withheld from him would have brought on a rage, the anger of a spoiled child who had come to believe he should be denied nothing.

Now, though, he had completed hard lessons in patience, humility, and trust, and simply waited for more information.

Odin caught the respect in Thor's tone and nodded to himself, storm-gray eye softening.

"In part, it was something I never wanted Loki to examine too closely," Odin said heavily. "I still wanted to protect him, long past the time I should have told both of you the truth of his origins and the mysteries of our line. But also, it is considered a great secret; enemies past, present, and future may be able to tamper or poison this connection if it became general knowledge. Legends persist; but so do many stories that most folk do not take seriously."

Thor nodded. "So you were concerned that if Loki knew about this type of connection that he would have discovered he did not share in it? Feel more… alone… than he already did?"

Odin gave him a half-smile, pleased at his son's understanding, though grief at Loki's loss still gnawed at him.

"Those of the line of Buri, and to a lesser extent, all the Aesir, are bound to this realm, on a level so deep and intrinsic that it is difficult to trace or detect," Odin explained. "In many ways it gives us life, long years of good health, strengths and powers that cause those from other Realms to name us gods. Loki does have a connection to Asgard, one that I forged myself when I first held him in my arms; yet I did fear he would think less of himself should he discover he was not born with it. And in other ways, particularly now with you, the power flows from us to the land."

The All-Father gestured widely, indicating all of Asgard. "This city was built with stone quarried from the mountain, yes, and over the long centuries shaped into palaces and halls and courtyards. But that which gives Asgard life itself, the force that allows structures to fly above the city, the oceans to flow, and the Bifrost to form the rainbow bridge, is our own vitality." He pointed first to himself, and then Thor.

"We brim of it," Odin continued, "and oft do not notice when the Realm sips at us, like a butterfly from flowers. But today, because it has been injured and, I believe, responding to your own desires, the land took more."

"That would explain why I feel so exhausted," Thor admitted, his tired mind slowly working its way through these revelations. "But why did Hogun's touch not have the same effect?"

"Oh, I have no doubt that the Asbru took from him, and grew some small fraction," Odin replied. "But for this purpose, he is like a small flowing brook to your roaring waterfall. That is one difference."

"You spoke of desire – that is another?" Thor asked.

Odin nodded, another half-smile playing at his lips. "He does not have a Midgardian waiting for him."

Thor found himself quirking a smile of his own in response. Any mention of Jane brought that expression upon him, it seemed.

Odin sobered then, and his gaze wandered for a few moments. Thor waited until his father spoke again.

"There is something more I must tell you, my son," Odin said. "Even as you gave new life to the Asbru, I was visited by Hunin and Munin."

"The Ravens?" Thor's eyebrows raised in tired shock. "Father, they have not appeared for decades – not since the gates holding Surtur required reinforcement."

"You are summoned to the Heart of Yggdrasil, there to choose your doom and make sacrifice." Odin abruptly stood and began to pace while Thor shook his head as if to clear it from the completely unexpected proclamation.

"Thor, it is a fate that all of our line have suffered. My father's father… my father… and myself." Odin paused to gently touch his eyepatch. "At various times in our kingship, we are called to cure some affliction that would otherwise consume the Nine Realms. It is a terrible curse, and a great blessing." He resumed his pacing, his cloak swirling about him in agitated majesty.

"You know part of the story, in that I lost my eye in the war with the frost giants. But no Jotun warrior ever struck me such a grievous blow. Instead, that was the point I was called to Yggdrasil's Heart. I asked for the wisdom to end those bloody years of battle and to guide me in all the centuries since. In return, my eye was demanded from me. I… gave it."

He paused again to focus on Thor.

"I fear for you, my son. I imagined that you would have long centuries of peaceful reign before anything like this was asked of you. Indeed, I did not expect to be still living to see you thus summoned. Why you are called now, what great task that will save the Realms, and what you may be asked to sacrifice… these I cannot say."

Thor was still a long moment. Something deep inside was stirring in answer to this summons, some natural lodestone responding to the pull of an invisible force. He felt stronger for it.

"Your eye was not taken, but freely given," Thor finally responded, quietly, reconciling swiftly with this deeper truth that supplanted so much of what he had known before. There was both horror and honor in that acknowledgment. "It seems that until of late, I never imagined the costs of kingship, but only the rewards. Yet now," and he shrugged his great shoulders, "I know only that I must answer."

For the second time since waking, he moved to stand, his strength finally returning. Clad in simple tunic and pants, he stood straight and tall upon his feet and faced his father, his king.

Odin's eye closed in pain, and pride. Both were visible when he looked next at his son, and he stepped forward to hold Thor's shoulders. His words took on a formal intonation.

"Then when you are rested and equipped, you will take Sleipnir and ride the forbidden roads into the depths of the mountains. He will take you where even the Bifrost could not, to that place which is unknown to all, yet is the center of all; to the very Heart of the World-Tree."

"I will honor our family's duty," Thor replied steadily.

"I know," Odin said simply. There were no better words to express the trust his son had earned. "Come see me when you are ready. I will take you to Sleipnir." He tightened his hold for a moment, then released Thor's shoulders, picked up his spear, and left the room.

Thor watched him go, then turned to a large window on the far side of the room. It looked over the expansive and colorful gardens of the House of Healing, and afforded a vista that included the marvelous floating buildings of Asgard. They shimmered with the golden power that kept them aloft, power that he now knew came from all the people of Asgard and flowed through the magical nature of the Realm that sat highest in the branches of Yggdrasil.

"I will not fail you," he said quietly – to Asgard, to Midgard, to his friends, to his parents, to Jane – and then turned to sit and finish the excellent breakfast his friend had prepared.

Truly, Volstagg had outdone himself.


	5. Unexpected Meetings

Tree's Wisdom Ch 5

Author's Note:

Yikes, it's been a year. I am still slowly (yes very slowly) but surely continuing the work on this story, still sticking pretty close to my original outline from 2009. To remind everyone, this means the only movies this story shares continuity with are Thor, Iron Man I and II, and Captain America; Loki fell straight to Earth with no Thanos involvement and no attempt to take over New York. Much as I enjoy them, this story has nothing to do with Avengers, Thor 2, Captain America II, or the TV show Agents of Shield. However background information from these may inform my story (for example, that Coulson dates a cellist or that Banner is hiding out in India), as well as does the larger Marvel universe. As a particularly fun point, I get to write the New York scene here while actually in Manhattan (yay for conferences with a bit of down time!)

oooOOOooo

_Music: Wayward Soldier, by Bear McCreary, Battlestar Galactica Season 3 Soundtrack_

"Jane! Jane! Earth to Jane!"

None of these calls caught the attention of the woman typing feverishly at a laptop, eyes alight with the passionate and complex focus attained only by Zen masters, civil rights leaders, and physicists. In the darkened office, the glow from the computer screen softly bathed her face, revealing features balanced between strength and a more delicate quality.

Darcy tried again. "Midgard to Jane!"

_That_ got the desired reaction. Jane immediately snapped her gaze to her assistant, who was barely visible in the gloom.

"What? What's going on?" Jane asked. Anticipation brightened her expression.

Darcy hummed in satisfaction at her stratagem's success then went on in an aggrieved voice.

"That agent, Coulson, is here. You know, the guy from the Strategic whatchamacallit."

"They call it SHIELD now, Darce," the brown haired woman sighed, slumping with some disappointment that their guest was of a prosaic nature. It was a strange world she lived in now, where a key agent of a super-secret governmental organization was considered an ordinary visitor. "Can't he talk to Erik?"

"He went off to do some field research, remember?" Darcy replied. "Watch your eyes." The young woman reached out to flick a light switch, activating two lamps in the room.

Jane winced at the sudden brightness despite the warning and took a moment to rub her eyes with the palms of her hands. "All right, all right, give me a sec." She stretched and then yawned, glancing at the clock, raising her eyebrows when she saw that the time was well past midnight. "Don't these guys ever sleep?"

"Occasionally," said an amused voice. "But not in recent memory."

Phil Coulsen eased himself into the cluttered office, wearing his ubiquitous black suit. A frequent visitor to their lab, he was no longer distracted by the various piles of paper, tesseract and other singularity models made of McDonalds straws, or the rolls of data printouts that filled every available surface and most chairs. He flashed his easy-going smile at the two ladies, then sobered.

"It's time," he said abruptly.

"Huh? Time for what?" Darcy asked.

"Time for some introductions. And travel. There are a several folks anxious to meet you and, " he held up a hand to forestall the objection clearly starting to erupt from Jane, "who may be very helpful in your work."

Jane closed her open mouth, off balance, then started asking questions.

"Why now? This instant? It's been a month since the last true Bifrost sighting – why didn't you bring up the possibility of additional help before?"

"Truth? Even in efficient bureaucracies," and he drolly gestured at himself, "it takes some time to establish the necessary levels of clearance for civilians. Congratulations, the ink on your access just dried." Coulson reached into an inner jacket pocket and handed each woman a slim plastic and metal card.

"Avengers level clearance?" Jane read aloud. "Is that some other agency, like SHIELD?" She looked more closely at the card. Her picture was on the upper left, with her name and a string of numbers and letters along with the strange phrase underneath. There was also clearly some micro-circuitry embedded in the plastic.

"It's more of a team. Or the hope of a team," Coulson hedged. "You are being asked to be attached personnel, sort of. Actually, I should let Director Fury talk to you about it."

"Are you deliberately making this as mysterious as possible?" Jane retorted, but stood up anyway and drew on a rumpled lab coat over her shirt and jeans.

"Everyone needs a hobby," the agent said with a small smile. "Good to know I haven't lost my touch." He held the door open and gestured in a herding motion.

"Where are we going? What do we need to take?"

"We've taken the liberty of packing for you," Coulson said blandly.

Jane froze mid-step. "You did not just clear out my lab again."

"Trust me, Dr. Foster." Coulson's smile turned bright, almost into a boyish grin. "You'll want to go where we're headed."

"That better be ground zero of a space bridge," Darcy muttered, using her favorite term for the Einstein-Rosen phenomenon. She already had a jacket on and a backpack slung over her shoulder and clearly had been about to head home when interrupted by the agent's visit.

They left the small office to emerge into a hive of activity that was eerily silent and almost frightening in its speed. Almost two dozen dark-uniformed technicians swarmed the lab to dismantle and pack the various instruments into waiting vehicles. Their smooth, knowledgeable movements were efficient, coordinated, and with a noted lack of the muttering or cursing that usually accompanied moving heavy equipment.

"Holy smokes, Jane, we've been raided by ninjas," Darcy noted, impressed despite herself. From the office there had been no noise or light to hint what awaited them in the very next room. "Sneaky, science-type ninjas."

Jane's mouth was drawn into a thin line as she watched her beloved equipment, much of it new and state of the art that had been supplied by SHIELD, be packed away into black vans under the New Mexico starlight. It brought back the memory of the first time her work had been stolen. Herr only solaces at that times had been her notebook that Thor had recovered; and Thor's company in himself, before she believed in his true nature but after he had begun to touch her heart.

"I hope I won't regret this," Jane replied.

Agent Coulson led them outside, but instead of taking them to one of the waiting ground vehicles, drew them around the building and behind the cramped trailer, which was undergoing a raid similar to their lab though targeting their personal effects. The women found themselves distracted from the automatic dismay at that activity by the sight of the dim outline of a trim aircraft that had landed with the same stealth that pervaded all other aspects of this coordinated operation.

Upon the ramp to the hold, backlit in the light from the interior, stood a confident figure wearing a long black leather coat and standing with hands clasped behind his back. As they approached, the women could see dark, commanding features marked by an eye patch..

"Allow me to introduce Colonel Fury, Director of SHIELD," Agent Coulson stated formally, then stood back quietly.

Fury immediately moved to take charge of the greeting, stepping down the ramp with cat-like grace and reaching out with his right hand to find theirs in greeting.

"Hello, Miss Lewis," he greeted the young intern first with a simple clasp of hands. Darcy gave him a pert smile as he turned to Jane.

"Dr. Foster, it is a pleasure," Fury said in a deep voice as he shook her hand. His gaze was assessing as he took his first look into the face of a young woman who had, by all reports, captured the heart of a being commonly recognized as a god.

Jane pressed his fingers with a firm grip of her own and stared straight into his eye. "Director Fury," she replied. She didn't care how scary he looked or what kind of military he was from. Meeting the Destroyer and living to tell about it had created a certain amount of perspective for her. "I hope that wherever we're going is worth dismantling my lab. Again. In the middle of the night."

Fury gave her a brief nod and released her hand, a faint expression of satisfaction flitting over his face before he stepped aside and gestured to the ramp.

"Ever hear of the Baxter Building?" He asked casually, escorting Jane into the interior of the futuristic plane, leaving Agent Coulson to do the same for Darcy. As soon as they were aboard, the ramp began to retract. The bay doors closed smoothly afterwards.

"Sure, it's in New York City. What about it?" Jane replied.

"It's the home of Dr. Reed Richards, among others," Fury said, escorting her to one of a dozen seats evenly distributed to either side of the interior, all facing the center aisle. Each seat featured a four-point harness and easy access to sleek compartments. Further ahead she could clearly see two chairs for the pilot and copilot, one being occupied by a man with short brown hair and piercing, hazel eyes.

Jane gave Fury a puzzled frown, sitting down in the indicated seat.

"I think I've heard of him. He works on propulsion systems for NASA, right? He used to publish the occasional paper on theoretical mathematics for the energy production needed for interstellar flight. But I haven't seen anything by him in years, and his work wasn't directly relevant to mine."

Fury and Coulson directed the women to the seats and modeled how to put on the harnesses.

"We're secure, Barton," Fury called to the pilot. The brown-haired man nodded curtly in response and turned to the controls. A moment later, there was a barely perceptible jerk as the VTOL engines engaged and the aircraft lifted off.

"His work turned a few levels above Top Secret a few years back," Fury continued to Jane. He nodded at Coulson, who reached into a compartment and drew out a rectangle of glass edged by a silvery metal. Coulson tapped a button on its rim, revealing it to be a clearscreen computer of a type even more advanced than had been supplied to Jane's lab. The agent activated a program then handed the device to Jane, who watched with rapt attention as a file composed of a series of pictures and underlying descriptions began to scroll across the screen.

Fury continued. "Richards and his team were in an accident during a secret mission into space aboard an experimental spacecraft. Among other consequences which I won't detail now, his research focus shifted to interdimensional travel."

Jane touched the screen, halting the scrolling process. Under her suddenly trembling fingers was an image of a large technical laboratory. Hanging in the middle of that space was an oblong rip in the air, a blue-violet gold-streaked rift to _**elsewhere**_.

"He's generated an Einstein-Rosen bridge?" she all but whispered, unable to move her eyes from the unexpected dose of hope sitting in her lap.

"Or a related singularity. Whatever it is, that hole in the air goes to a place he calls the Crossroads of Infinity, or at least it does for the six seconds he's able to keep it open," Fury answered. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and looked straight at Jane. "There is a… race, of sorts, among various powers of this world. The race is not about missiles, or weapons of mass destruction, but rather of who will be Earth's ambassadors to the other worlds and alien races that have emerged from science fiction to become science fact. New Mexico is only the latest encounter."

Jane nodded slowly. "This is why SHIELD started supporting my work, then. And Dr. Richards?"

"He and his team have civilian status, but have agreed to share information with you – and SHIELD."

"Because you're the best ambassadors?" Jane asked with a raised eyebrow.

Coulson broke in. "Well, we just may be a better candidate than HYDRA. Or Doctor Doom. Or the Ten Rings terror group. Just saying."

"Those are scary names," Darcy noted. "That's on purpose, I'm guessing?"

That earned a wry grin from the agent. "I'd say you'd have to ask them, but I wouldn't recommend that much contact with terrorists to anyone."

Darcy made a silent "oh", then nodded.

Fury watched the rapt face of the young scientist as she returned to poring over the new information available to her, and nodded to himself in satisfaction. He leaned back into his seat and half-listened as Coulson smoothly interacted with Darcy, most of his attention drawing inward as the craft continued its journey to the east.

oooOOOooo

_Music: Battle School, by Steve Jablonsky, Ender's Game Soundtrack_

The sky was still dark as the aircraft was expertly piloted to a landing pad on the top of a New York City skyscraper. Other buildings clustered around the neatly square tower, though few matched its height. The still distant sidewalk was some fifty stories below, vaguely illuminated by the endless street lights of the bustling city. Barton finished his one-sided conversation with the individual manning communications for the landing pad of the Baxter Building, and then set what Jane and Darcy had learned was called a quinjet down to a gentle landing.

Barton paused, listening to his earpiece, then turned and nodded to Fury. "Director, they are clearing our party to disembark."

"Thank you, Barton. Keep the engines warm, I'll be back in a few minutes." Fury removed the protective straps, which became a cue for the agent and women to follow. The bay doors opened smoothly, the ramp extended, and then they were walking out into the night, wind gusts whipping over the buildings and greeting their hair and clothing with eager tugs.

"I'll introduce you, then other matters require my attention," Fury informed them, speaking up to be heard over the wind. "And I almost forgot to mention… some of Dr. Richard's companions may appear unusual, but they are all integral parts of his team. After your recent experiences, I believe you will be more open than most."

While Jane did not for one moment believe that Fury "almost forgot" anything, by this point she was whirling in a haze of combined exhaustion and excitement, so had no response but to follow him through a pair of sliding glass doors, which led to a fair sized foyer with another pair of doors barring further entry. After Darcy and Coulson entered, the glass doors slid into place efficiently behind them, bringing a welcome relief from the stiff wind. The foyer was nearly barren but in a way that was elegant for its simplicity, with indirect lighting gleaming off soft marble and brass trims. The inner doors however had a more industrial look of reinforced steel plating, appearing oddly out of place amidst the more luxurious stones and golden metals, and were massive in scale, being fully twelve feet high and nearly as many wide.

Fury approached the steel doors, raising a hand and rapping sharply. Nearly instantaneously, a great clunking sound preceded the door cracking open towards the small party.

"Yeesh, always in a hurry," rumbled a voice in complaint. "I could see ya coming!"

Darcy gave a small 'eep!' as a giant, burnt orange, stonelike hand curled around the edge of the door, the owner evidently putting some effort into pushing it open.

Jane stared in shock, tiredness abruptly forgotten, as the door swung open to reveal a tall craggy rock shaped like a human. All of him was the same burnt orange color as his hands, though he wore blue pants that came down to just above where knees should be. Bright blue eyes, startling in their humanity, took in her reaction, as well as Darcy who was doing a fair imitation of a fish, then impatiently turned to Fury and continued what seemed to be a harangue.

"An' I see you didn't give our guests any kind of headsup about me. Again. You enjoy seein' people stare at me, or what?" The massive – creature? Person? – harrumphed at Fury, craggy features morphing into clear displeasure.

For his own part, the SHIELD director appeared completely unfazed at the prospect of a small mountain being unhappy with him.

"Dr. Foster, Miss Lewis, I'm pleased to introduce you to Mr. Benjamin Grimm, part of Dr. Richards team. He'll be showing you around the tower and helping you get settled," Fury said smoothly.

"I – it's a pleasure," Jane made a snap decision, and held out her hand to her new host. He took a long look at her outstretched arm, perhaps in surprise of his own, before slowly bringing his hand up to meet hers. Gingerly, he wrapped huge fingers around her hand, wrist, and part of her forearm. Jane simply gave him a determined smile as she had the oddest sensation of being partially enveloped by a handshake of warm, smooth stone.

"Welcome t' the Baxter Building, Dr. Foster," he said more calmly, giving her a look of slow approval. Beside her, Darcy stopped gaping and stepped forward to repeat the gesture by offering a handshake of her own.

"Sorry for staring, Mr. Grimm," Darcy said with a rueful shrug. "I mean, it's not like you're the weirdest thing I've seen, because hopefully you don't shoot nuclear fire out of your mouth, do you?"

"Darcy!" Jane hissed, interrupting in mild horror.

"Annnd…. That's my cue to stop talking." Darcy mimed zipping her lips shut with her free hand, and raised her eyebrows in appeal at the being who was repeating a cautious wrapping of his large fingers around Darcy's lower arm.

To Jane's profound relief, the being's face split in what was unmistakably a grin as he gently raised Darcy's arm up and down. "Nah, no fire from me. That's Johnny's circus trick. And call me Ben." Releasing Darcy's hand, Ben shifted his attention to Coulson who had been patiently standing in the back of the small group, and the two men exchanged nods.

"C'mon in," Ben told them, clearly more cheerful, and stepped back with surprising grace for someone so massive.

"At this point, I'd just be in the way, so I'll be heading back out," Fury said in response. "Give the rest of your team my regards."

"Yeah, yeah, see ya later, Colonel," Ben replied, waving an arm casually. Jane and Darcy followed suit as the director left them as equally abruptly as he had picked them up in New Mexico. After the remaining three walked through the imposing doorway, Ben reached out to an equally massive wheel installed on the inner side, pulling the door back into place and using both hands to turn the wheel to the left, resulting in another clunking noise as the reinforced barriers locked firmly into place. As Ben's imposing figure turned back towards his guests, Jane paused for a brief moment to appreciate Coulson's reassuring presence.

However the stone giant appeared to continue in his improved mood.

"Lemme show ya to yer rooms, so ya can get settled down," he offered. "Even Reed finally called it an hour or so ago. Dunno why SHIELD decided to bring ya in the middle of the night like this – "

"Operational security," Coulson supplied.

" – but most civilized folks are in bed," Ben continued. He gestured at the large space around them as they turned from the steel doors. It seemed to take up most of the upper story of the tower, and contained an area with oversized communications equipment and video monitors to one side, while to another side was parked some sort of vehicle in a state of considerable disarray, with parts, pieces, and tools laying haphazardly around it. Further back was another area with large sections of soot and carbon burn darkening the surrounding steel and concrete; while in the final corner an elevator entrance waited quietly. There were no windows, but everything was fairly well lit by covered lights in the ceiling.

"This here's the combination trainin' room, flying car experiment, and radio," Ben pointed, though each distinction was fairly obvious. "I don' imagine that either of you will be spendin' much time up here, but your free t' look around." He lead the way to the elevator, again moving with economy of motion, while his large unshod feet made soft thudding sounds against the paved floor as he moved.

"I have agents bringing their equipment and other luggage by truck," Coulson informed their host. "It should arrive within a day."

"Well, I 'spect that Reed and the others have enough toys to share fer a day or two," Ben replied as they reached the elevator. It opened automatically. "We're gettin' t' havin' a whole camp of people up here these days. At some point, somebody'll make a fire and roast marshmallows, or I don' have baby blue eyes."

"The others?" Jane asked curiously. The four of them entered the elevator.

"Guest floor," Ben told the ceiling, then looked down at Coulson as a faint sensation of movement began. "More operational security?" he asked pointedly.

Coulson gave his neutral smile. "Naturally," he replied, then turned to Jane. "Dr. Foster, you are the latest of a truly remarkable gathering of minds to be assembled at this location. Not only will you be collaborating with Dr. Richards, but also with Dr. Bruce Banner and Mr. Anthony Stark. There are others whose research will be made available to you, but whose projects are too dangerous to keep in a populated area."

As Jane started working her mind around this revelation, Darcy started talking.

"Tony Stark? As in Iron Man? I thought he was into weapons?"

"Energy," Coulson corrected her firmly, then shrugged. "And his suits, which may count as a weapon. He goes back and forth on that one."

The elevator door opened onto a landing. On exiting, they found themselves at the corner of two intersecting hallways. The outer sides of the hallways were periodically spaced with doors, evidently the guest rooms. The inner sides were more of a balcony railing of etched glass and brass fixtures, and allowed them to look down into a spacious central area, though few details were distinct in the dim lights apparently favored for evening use. Other floors with similar railings were visible both above and below them, all looking into the central space.

Suddenly a brighter light flicked on a few levels below, abruptly chasing away shadows to reveal an array of technical equipment installed at the floor of the central area. However then the light _moved_, soaring upward in a sudden flare of fire and heat. Instinctively, Jane grabbed Darcy and pulled her behind the nearby shelter of Ben's massive form, certain that some kind of terrible lab accident was in the making. Peeking out, she had just enough time to be confused by the observation that the fireball was _hovering_ on just the other side of their railing before it _spoke_.

"Hey Grimm, we have newbies?" The voice was chipper, unrepentantly youthful, and definitely male.

"Quit showin' off, flameboy, yer makin' our guests jumpy," Ben folded his arms at the fireball, sounding distinctly unimpressed. That gave Jane and Darcy the nerve to peer out from either side of their stony escort. If Coulson had any reaction to the sudden encounter, it was hidden behind the mild mannered expression the agent habitually wore.

On closer examination, a human form was clearly visible within the writhing flames, and a meant-to-be-charming smile was plain upon a golden-eyed face.

"Sorry ladies, I just got in from cramming for a final. I didn't expect to meet anyone new at this hour," the flaming man said with a shrug.

"Oh. Of course," Darcy stammered, finally almost at a loss for words.

"Get on with yerself, and we'll have introductions all 'round tomorrow," Ben grunted at him.

"Well then. I guess then I'll say goodnight?" The fire-man's voice held a resigned note. "I'm just tired enough not to argue with you, Benjy."

"Um, goodnight," said Jane, feeling brave enough to step fully out from behind Ben.

"'Night," the man within the flames responded, waving, then looked upwards and zipped up out of sight to levels above. A few moments later, the light faded.

"Um, you said something about Johnny having a firey-type circus trick?" Darcy asked, still looking up toward where the flaming man had disappeared.

"Yeah, that was Johnny," Ben sighed, shaking his head. "Only good thing I got ta say about him is that he's takin' his classes seriously. Everything else, forgettaboutit. C'mon, your rooms are down this way. Like I said, I'll introduce you to everyone else in the mornin'."

Darcy and Jane shared a look. Despite all they had been through in the last few months, they were in agreement that with this evening's events, life had gotten abruptly, marvelously, even more _strange_.


End file.
